Acts of Treason
by BAM-it's-me
Summary: Post-movie. AU. Lancelot becomes frustrated with the altered tales and secrecy that composes his life. Lance/Guin.


The room was extremely crowded and very loud with the yells of drunken men. Bits and pieces of the multiple stories in the space floated over to where he stood, leaning against the wall. Lancelot clenched his jaw and tightened his grip on his goblet as he heard the highly altered tales of his feats.

Pushing himself away from the wall, he made his way out of the stuffy room, looking for some fresh air. Drinking the last gulp of wine from his cup, he set it on the table and went into a deserted courtyard. The cool air felt good on the warm skin of his face. He found a bench in the shadows and sat, resting his elbows on his knees and put his head in his hands.

Guinevere's footsteps were faint as she entered the courtyard minutes after Lancelot. He heard her, and she knew it, so it wasn't surprising when he spoke. "It grows old."

"What does?" she asked as she sat beside him.

"The stories they tell. The way the feel the need to embellish the truth. They create a grand warrior out of a simple knight."

"But you are no simple knight, my good Lancelot, not in other's eyes. You have accomplished things they have only dreamt of."

"But I haven't!" he exclaimed, growing frustrated. He stood and began pacing before her. "They twist everything until you can't the truth from the lies. My entire existence has become nothing but lies." He stopped pacing and stood with his back to her.

"What do you mean?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"All these stories! I'm known for these extravagant events that have been warped and changed."

"Did you not defeat all those men in last weeks tournament? And the one before that? And before that?"

"Yes. I did, but-"

"But nothing," Guinevere said, cutting him off. She stood up and went to his side. Placing a hand on his shoulder, she continued. "You are too modest. Your feats all full of glory, just you see it differently than they do. You just grow old of hearing them over and over again. They aren't glorified to you because you were the one who did it. It's all a matter of perception. It's all in your head."

He turned to face her and locked their eyes for a few seconds. "No. Not all of it is in my head." He sat back down and she followed suit.

"What else is there?" she asked, taking one of his hands in both of hers. He immediately pulled it away and the sinking feeling in her stomach gave her a suspicion. "What is the matter? Talk to me."

Lancelot put his head back in his hands and heaved a great sigh. "This can't go on any further, milady." His words were like a punch in the stomach; she felt as if she couldn't breath.

"Oh Lancelot," she said, chuckling slightly, trying to recover from her brief moment of shock. "I think you've had a bit to much to drink."

"No, I haven't, milady."

"That's not my name."

"_Milady_," he continued, still not looking at her, "It must stop."

She placed her hand on his cheek, turning his head to face her. "The least you could do is look at me." He did for a few, long seconds, then stood again. "You're very dedicated to this decision, aren't you?"

"Yes. I am."

"So you would deny the requests of your queen?" Her tone was icy, but his response shocked her.

"I would and will if it meant I wasn't betraying not only my king, but my best friend as well!" he yelled. She felt the pricking of tears in her eyes, but she fought them off, and didn't say anything in return. After minutes of silence, he turned and kneeled before her. "I am tired of this guilt. It kills me when the sun of the dawn chases you from my arms and back into his. I shouldn't envy him, but I do. I am a criminal, milady, for loving you." He brushed his fingertips across her cheek. "This simple act of my hand is treasonous. I intend to end this before it's revealed. Secrets don't stay hidden for long."

"Please..."she whispered. "Don't go. Don't do this." For the first time all evening, he held her gaze for longer than a few seconds. The tears she had been holding back flowed freely down her cheeks.

"Don't cry, milady," he said softly, brushing the tears from her face with his thumb. She reached up and held his hand in hers, and the fire her touch sent through his veins was bittersweet. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Why are you doing this?" Her voice trembled with the question. He slowly reopened his eyes and looked back into her glassy, golden stare.

"This," he said, gesturing to their entwined hands, "is a betrayal to the king, which is treason. Treason is punishable by death. Arthur trusts me, milady, and I am deceiving him in the worst way possible."

She sighed and leaned into him so that their foreheads touched. "Sometimes what your heart wants isn't the same as what everyone else wants. Sometimes it can hurt others, but we must listen to it."

"As a knight of the Round Table, I must think of others before myself."

"To what extent? Until you're unhappy and miserable? I can see it in your eyes Lancelot that this decision hurts you more than seeing me with Arthur. You can't always think of everyone else, my good knight. You can't please everyone else. For once, think of yourself, and please yourself. Please. For the sake of both of us."

He hated how right her words were. He felt his resolve breaking. It crumbled with a silent crash in his mind. "As you wish, my queen, Guinevere."

And with a kiss, they sealed their fate.


End file.
